Eve
by marap
Summary: "The tree lights twinkled; a pretty backdrop against the mess of a well-enjoyed meal." Christmas Eve. Jeller, with Sarah and Sawyer.


**Eve**

 _AN: I started this a few days before Christmas, but I only finished it at 5am on Christmas morning, when I really should have been asleep. I generally obsess over my fanfic, but I really wanted to get this posted to my Tumblr on Christmas Day. Therefore I don't have time to obsess over it. So it's a little rough, but I hope you enjoy regardless. I meant to post here also, but in my sleep-deprived state, I simply forgot. So I am posting it now! Vaguely inspired by a few lines of New York, New York by Ryan Adams._

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The tree lights twinkled; a pretty backdrop against the mess of a well-enjoyed meal. Kurt carried a stack of empty dinner plates to the kitchen. He had cooked dinner, though Sarah - back in town for Christmas - had offered to do so. He'd insisted that she was a guest and he should cook. She'd argued that she and Sawyer did used to lie with him, so the guest rule hardly applied. In truth, Kurt had only offered because he wanted them to actually be able to eat the food.

He stacked plates into the dishwasher, lining them up nearly. Sarah appeared at the kitchen counter, setting down the basket of leftover dinner rolls. She broke off the end of one and popped it in her mouth.

"We've got to leave soon," she said a moment later, glancing at the clock. "The service starts at 8:30 this year."

Kurt stopped, a plate clanging against another one.

 _Crap._

Christmas Eve service.

A Weller tradition.

He'd forgotten.

He stood up and met Sarah's gaze. Disappointment clouded her face. She'd clearly drawn conclusions from the look on his face, just as much as from his lack of immediate reply.

"You forgot," she said simply.

"No, I…" Kurt started to say. He stopped, mouth agape, when he quickly realised there was little point attempting to dispute what they both knew to be true.

Sawyer bounded up next to his mother. A too-big Christmas beanie - gaudy Santa embroidery and all - half flopped off his head, struggling to withstand his excited movements.

"Is Jane coming too?" he asked brightly.

"Uhh," Kurt mumbled. "I might not be able to join you this year, buddy," Kurt said, the words sounding feeble.

"Why?" Sawyer asked, confusion causing his little brow to furrow.

"Kurt and Jane might have things to do," Sarah said, giving her brother an out. She tugged Sawyer back against her, her arms around her son as if to protect or comfort.

Kurt watched as disappointment spread from mother to child, the consequence of his lapse in memory, albeit minor, claiming a second victim.

"What do we have to do?" Jane asked as she entered the room.

Her olive sweater seemed to make her eyes even greener, yet it didn't hide the curious confusion in her gaze. She joined Sarah and Sawyer opposite him on the other side of the kitchen counter. If the situation were different, he'd have laughed at the image. Three sets of eyes staring back at him, waiting for explanation like FBI agents in an interview room.

Some minutes prior, Jane had excused herself to use the bathroom. Kurt had suspected it had been more about getting a moment to herself, than it had been about the call of nature. Between Sarah's not-so-subtle prodding about the nature of their new but not officially defined relationship, and Sawyer's newfound interest in her tattoos (his new teacher has some too, he'd said), dinner had perhaps not been as relaxing for Jane as he would have hoped. She'd rolled with it good-naturedly, while he'd deflected Sarah's questions as best as he could. But by the end of the meal, he sensed she was perhaps a little overwhelmed. He hadn't been surprised when she'd excused herself, laying a hand briefly against his arm as if to say 'I'm okay.'

"Kurt?" Jane said, bringing him back to the moment.

"Sarah was just–" Kurt started to explain.

"Will you come to church with us?" Sawyer interrupted, twisting out of his mother's hold as he turned to face Jane.

"What?" Jane asked with a shaky laugh, clearly thrown by the randomness of the question.

"You don't have to," Sarah said, turning to look at Jane. "I would have thought my brother would have mentioned it." She threw Kurt a look. "But seeing as he didn't remember in the first place..."

'They give out hot chocolate and marshmallows!' Sawyer exclaimed before Kurt could get a word in.

"Oh. Wow," Jane said, trying to catch up. She felt like she been doing that for as long as she could remember. Perhaps she had.

"Yes, that's the draw card for this one," Sarah said, gesturing to Sawyer. 'I like the carols.'

Kurt lay his hands flat on the counter, unsure how Jane would feel about the prospect of church. He had intended on a lazy night on the sofa with Jane, Sawyer to bed early and Sarah busily wrapping his presents from Santa, hiding in her bedroom so that Sawyer wouldn't catch her if he were to wake up and creep out into the living room.

"You go to church?" Jane asked, eyes moving from Sarah to Kurt.

'It's just a Christmas thing,' he clarified.

"Our mom used to take us to church at Christmas, when we were little," Sarah added.

"Mom, can we go now?" Sawyer asked, impatient.

'It's now?' Jane asked. "Church on a Saturday night?"

"It's a special Christmas Eve service," Sarah explained.

"More carols than regular service," Kurt clarified.

"'Oh," Jane replied. "So do we need to leave now?"

"Jane," Kurt said, moving around the counter so he was closer to her. "We don't have to go.'

"It's fine," she said. "We can go. I mean, if you don't mind me coming too. I could always just stay–"

"Don't even finish that sentence," he said, shaking his head.

"Good! Let's go!" said Sarah, raising her hands and leading the way, Sawyer right on her heels as they walked to the front door. Jane went to follow.

"Jane," Kurt said softly, stopping her with a hand on her arm. He turned to Sarah and encouraged her to go ahead with Sawyer; he and Jane would meet them there.

The door closed and he turned back to Jane. "I am sorry about this. We always go to this thing and I just - I guess I just forgot,' he explained as he rubbed his brow.

"I know the feeling," she said, a tinge of sadness creeping through what was meant to be a lighthearted joke.

Kurt cupped her face with his hands.

"I promised this Christmas would be about us," he said, thumbs brushing her cheekbones. "Sarah and Sawyer won't mind if I'm not there," he lied.

"We both know that's not true," she said. "Besides, Christmas doesn't have to _ONLY_ be about us. They're your family, Kurt."

He nodded slightly, grateful for her understanding. He wanted to say that she was his family too – the thought should have concerned him, but it seemed as natural as breathing. But he kept his lips sealed. Instead, he kissed her forehead, then her lips. Just once. It was early days; he didn't want to overwhelm or rush her.

"Let's go before Sawyer comes back looking for us," he said with a chuckle.

Barely twenty minutes later, Jane stood next up Kurt towards the back of the church, Sarah on his other side and Sawyer at the end. Jane tugged at the thick scarf draped around her neck. Kurt had lent it to her, saying she'd be cold in the night air. After all, she hadn't been expecting to leave the warmth of Kurt's apartment, so she hadn't worn one of her own when she'd left her safe house earlier in the day. She was grateful that the scarf also covered the ink bird she could barely remember ever being without. It wasn't that she hated it, but looking around, she noticed no one else had visible tattoos, and somehow it seemed wrong to have hers on show in a church. Or maybe it was just that she didn't want to draw attention to herself. She already felt out of place. A feeling she sadly was not unfamiliar with.

Kurt had an arm around her, his other hand holding a program with the words to the carols being sung. It was only the second carol of the evening, but Jane was finding herself feeling increasingly uncomfortable.

She didn't belong here. As she unintentionally tuned out the music and her mind began to race, she was cruelly gifted to a repeat of the first memory she'd had since crawling out of a bag in Times Square.

Church. Nun. Shooting. Not a nun after all. That didn't make it okay.

Suddenly, the joyful singing voices filling the old stone building seemed almost defeating. Even the familiar tone of Kurt's voice, though unfamiliar in song (Sarah had insisted he participate), offered little peace. She breathed deeply and then moved from Kurt's hold, walking deliberately to the front door of the church, grateful they were standing at one end of the pew so she could get out without bumping into people.

She wasn't surprised when Kurt caught up to her outside. She knew it was probably rude to have raced out like that, but her panic had left her little choice. It wasn't quite a panic attack, but she felt breathless all the same.

"Jane,' Kurt called, meeting her at the bottom of the steps leading to the front door of the church. 'What's wrong?"

'I don't belong here," she said, taking a few steps away from the church.

"Belong where?" He asked, taking one step closer. "At church?"

She nodded.

"Jane, I'm not religious either, but they welcome everyone, especially at Christmas."

"It's not that," she explained, head dropping as she stared at the pavement. A car drove down the quiet street, its headlights casting light over her, adding to her feeling of vulnerability.

"What is it then?" Kurt asked, moving closer.

"A memory."

"A new one?" he asked, intrigued but concerned by the fact that the memory was clearly distressing for her.

"No. The same as the first one I had."

'Want to tell me about it?' he asked gently.

She nodded reluctantly, meeting his gaze.

"Okay," he said, "come here." He reached out a hand and she took it.

He led her back to the numerous steps leading to the church, sitting on the bottom one and tugging her down next to him, pulling her close to warm her against the cold. Moments later, a woman manning the snacks area just inside the church doors appeared, handing them two Styrofoam cups of hot chocolate and warning them not too stay outside in the cold for too long. Jane wondered if that was what it was like to have a real mother. They thanked her, and Kurt waited patiently for her to begin speaking.

After taking a sip of the hot chocolate, she told Kurt about the memory of killing someone in a church. She couldn't offer specifics, simply because she isn't know them. But to her, the why didn't matter. She's still done it.

She waited a moment for Kurt's response, anxiety building.

"It doesn't matter,' he said simply.

"Kurt. Come on," she pleaded, clearly not buying what he was selling. "If any of the people in there knew what I had done," she waved an arm toward the church, "do you really think they'd be happy to have me standing next to them?" Her breath hung in the air like a ghost in limbo.

"They should," Kurt replied simply. "They preach forgiveness," he added with a lopsided shrug as if it were so simple; the weight of her question nonexistent.

Jane's lips parted, but Kurt continued before she could form a single word. "Besides, it doesn't matter what they would think. That person wasn't you. You're a good person, Jane," he said, gaze locked on her troubled eyes.

A smile crept onto his face. "If you ask me, you just might be one of the best."

She scoffed. "You're not exactly impartial." There was teasing in her tone, a lightness that brought him relief.

He smiled and tilted his head as if to say 'fair point'.

"Maybe not. But I'm still right."

She laughed ever so briefly, her eyes seemingly less troubled.

"Come on," he said. "We're gonna freeze our asses off if we stay out here any longer."

He stood with a groan. She let him pull her to her feet.

Her hand in his, they ascended the steps she'd raced down just moments ago – the sound of carols getting louder the closer they got. As they walked, a thought – gratefully not a memory – came to her. It was something he'd said…

"One of?" she asked.

"What?"

"You said I am one of the best. Only one of?" She teased, suddenly confident after telling Kurt about the memory. Teasing was easy compared to that.

"Well," he cleared his throat. "I'm definitely up there too," Kurt said, like it were the most obvious thing in the world.

And Jane laughed.


End file.
